Ring of Fire
by Author Name Here
Summary: Six months after Godzilla laid waste to San Francisco and then disappeared, word comes in from Peru of a giant reptile, and a documentarian sets out to see if the rumors are true.
1. The Beast in the Lake

**Peru**

"Am I still going to get paid when this turns out to be the load of crap I've been telling you it is?"

Glen had one hand holding the cellphone he was speaking into against his ear, and the other holding onto the grip of the jeep's door, trying not to bounce all around from the bumpy terrain.

"You shoot me enough footage and make it interesting no matter what, you'll get your money. It turns out to be legitimate, I'll make it worth your while. Don't screw this up, Glen." said the voice on the other end of the line, rather dryly.

He hung up the phone and stared out the window at the beautiful scenery; a lush green landscape with sprawling mountains in the background. If nothing else, he was thankful to have a job that took him to places such as this.

His current assignment was to investigate and document reports from a local village of a massive creature appearing multiple times near their homes. Six months earlier, a monster that became known as Godzilla destroyed San Francisco, leaving it an uninhabitable radioactive fallout zone. Since disappearing into the sea that same night, it hadn't been spotted again. Once word came up of the sightings in Peru, Glen got hired by a media mogul by the name of Hal Watson, hoping to cash in on the tragedy by making a documentary about the beast. Glen, however, didn't buy into the claims that it was vacationing away in Peru.

"We're here. Go ahead and grab your things, I'll go find the family who's going to house us for the next few days." Tick said, his travel partner, driver and, in this case, translator. He exited the jeep while Glen did as he said, rounding up his various, heavy bags. He unloaded them onto the ground outside as various locals looked on. There wasn't much of a reason for any outsiders to ever visit their humble village before, so most of them were interested. A couple of children ran up and started speaking to Glen, to which he could only repeat the one phrase he knew in Spanish; "no habla espanol."

Tick returned after a few minutes with a middle aged man and woman. "These are the Ojeda's, and they're our host family for the next few days. I explained to them you're a terrible American pig that was too lazy to learn even basic Spanish before coming here."

Glen shot him an unamused look, then smiled at the couple and attempted to show his appreciation. "Gracias... ah... mucho gracias." Feeling a bit stupid, he shook his head and picked up his bags and asked Tick to show him where the house was. As they walked, he took in the village itself. Children and dogs ran around the dirt streets, while women hung clothes out to dry in front of their shanties.

After a few hours of settling into his temporary home and having a fish soup dinner, he started his first on camera interview on topic with Hugo Ojeda, head of the household. All dialog was translated through Tick.

"Thank you, Mr. Ojeda, for inviting me to your home first off, and for this interview."

"You are welcome. A welcome guest in this house, both of you."

"I'm sure you know what we are here for, we are making a movie about a monster that we believe is here in Peru."

Hugo nods.

"A monster named Godzilla destroyed a city in the United States, and some believe it was sighted here."

"No, there is no Godzilla here..."

Glen felt a wave of disappointment. Even though he was entirely skeptical, he felt like his documentary ended before it even began with that, until Hugo continued on.

"...it is named Varan."

Glen's heart dropped. For some reason, it gave him chills. He imagined the villagers being superstitious, less civilized folk that worshiped various deities and the like, but Hugo at the very least seemed like a reasonable man.

"Varan, you said?"

"Yes, Varan. It lives in a lake surrounded by cliffs, far in the jungle. Very large. Larger than any other animal."

Glen and Tick both exchanged a glance. Glen reached into his bag next to his chair, and pulled out a photograph of Godzilla and handed it to Hugo.

"Mr. Ojeda, is this Varan?"

Hugo studied the picture, then shook his head. "No, this is not our monster." He handed the picture back over, and shouted something to his son who was in the other room. After a moment, his son came out with a piece of paper and handed it over to Hugo, who in turn handed it to Glen. "This is Varan."

Glen studied the paper; it was a drawing the man's son had drawn. It looked very similar to Godzilla, but instead of large, jagged dorsal fins, this animal had a row of straight spikes lining from it's head down to it's tail. He handed it over to Tick. "Another monster?"

He turned back to Hugo. "Have you seen this animal with your own eyes?"

Hugo nodded. "Yes, I have. You can see it tomorrow for yourself... when we feed it."

The weather the following day had changed drastically; it was now cold and rainy as opposed to the humid, sunny atmosphere of the previous day. Glen, Tick, Hugo Ojeda and a few others from the village were congregated just on the outskirts of town. They were all wearing rain-gear, and the locals had four cattle tied along with rope.

"This is Miguel, Alma and Bruce. They said they, and Hugo here, are the ones who took it on themselves to feed this monster."

Glen looked the group and the cattle over. He'd been thinking about it all night and all morning but it still made no sense to him. "Did you ask them why they feed it? Or why they haven't called the military?"

Tick conversed with them for a minute, and then turned back to Glen. "They said the beast is their guardian. They said it's never hurt anybody, and they're convinced it keeps evil out, as long as they keep it happy. I guess it used to eat livestock, and then they started feeding it on a regular basis … and it's left them alone ever since."

The convoy started the trek toward the creatures location, up the hill past the village, and through the hills for a while. Eventually, they stop in front of a large gulch with a small lake at the bottom. The locals led the cattle down a rocky, winding path and advised the Americans to stay behind and watch. Glen removed his camera; the best waterproof camera he was able to bring along, and began filming.

The group of Peruvians took the cattle to the bottom of the path which led directly to the shore of the lake. The gulch itself was a few hundred feet deep, and the lake seemed to stretch out at least a mile. The cattle were untied, and the locals quickly went back up the path. There was much silent waiting, everybody's eyes fixed on the cows. Just as Glen turned to Tick and mouthed the word "Hoax?" a large commotion came from down below. A massive splash was heard, and one of the cows was gone, with the others mooing in panic and running away. Then, the creature appeared.

It crawled out of the water, stumbling rather clumsily. It wasn't apparent if it was biped or quadruped, as it seemed to be somewhere in the middle; pushing off its front two legs for a brief moment and then falling back on all fours. It did this a few times in its pursuit of the rest of the cattle, which it eventually devoured with no hassle.

This was Varan, the pet monster of the small village. He was much smaller than Godzilla, and more vibrant in color. The pink-purple coating seemed to shimmer when it moved despite the weather being overcast. It did bear resemblance, however. Varan was very much a massive reptilian creature, seemingly one of a kind. It also had spines running down it's back, although they were along a single row, and straight as opposed to Godzilla's jagged protrusions. It also had a thick membrane attached between its body and arms, as well as the legs.

After he finished his meal, Varan a low, rumbling bellow and casually slinked into the water, vanishing below the surface. Tick and Glen exchanged a silent look to one another. It was one of amazement and excitement. The group trekked back to the village and Glen rushed into his temporary home, going straight for the satellite phone. A few rings after the connection went through, and Mr. Watson answered.

"I've had a terrible day, don't make it worse with bad news."

"Hello to you too, Hal. Brighten up. Your day's about to get a hell of a lot better."

**Author Note**: This story is a very late sequel to my one shot Diabolic, although it's not necessary at all to read it. I've been wanting to do my own take on the Godzilla series for a long time, since I've loved it since I was about five years old. I hope you guys give the future chapters a chance. Also, 700th Godzilla story on this website! Woo!


	2. It's Alive!

Two days had passed since Glen informed his boss that they'd come across a second giant beast. Despite Glen's protests, Hal Watson insisted on sending a second crew to "assist" and "gather extra intel" on the situation. They're scheduled to arrive sometime today, last Glen heard.

He enjoyed the drastic change in scenery and lifestyle, despite only being there for a few days. Things felt less hectic in the village. Hal had ordered him to not revisit Varan's lair until the others arrived, so he filmed a few quick scenery shots and a couple more villagers stories about the monster, then went into full on relaxation mode.

It was on the way back from helping feed the cattle that Glen and Tick saw the two incoming helicopters. Tick pointed to them from the back of the jeep and asked, "Why'd we have to drive, and they get flown in?" Glen shrugged.

The scene was a mess by the time both parties arrived at the village. The two choppers had landed, and five men were removing equipment from them both. The locals were scattered around them, shouting. Glen turned on his camera as the jeep pulled up and approached the newcomers.

"They're mad at us for flying in. They said flying in this area is very dangerous." The tall man unloading what appeared to be a boxed up tent offered up this information, disregarding a proper greeting. "You must be the documentarian."

Glen nodded.

"You can call me Kerns. Mr. Watson sent us in to dig up a little meat for this film you guys are making."

The villagers suddenly started making an uproar as one of the men unloaded a crate of weapons. He kept about his business as one of his comrades explained to the people that they were merely precautionary measures, which didn't seem to appease them in the least.

"We're onto something big, here." Kerns paused. "Pun not intended. Godzilla shows up out of the blue, takes a chunk out of California and disappears. All of a sudden, _another _giant reptile appears. No human has ever seen one of these things before, but suddenly there are two in a half year period. Something's up, and Varan is key in finding out just what that is. Get your gear ready for tonight." 

Later that night, another expedition lead by Kerns is sent to the lake where the beast sleeps, despite the protests of the locals. They set up a small camp on the shore, and began readying various types of equipment. Geiger counters, underwater microphones, large spotlights, as well as two rifles that appeared large enough to take out a whale in a single shot manned by two of Kerns' men.

Glen readied his camera and got a few shots of the lake before approaching the man in charge.

"Could you state your name and business here for the documentary?"

"My name is Henry Kerns, and I am the head of a fact finding team here in Peru. Our goal is to gather as much information on this creature as possible."

One of his team members approached with a small device in his hand. "Sir, no radiation levels in this area. We're going to test the water next."

A commotion arose at the top of the cliff surrounding the lake. A group of villagers that were watching the ordeal started shouting as soon as they saw equipment being lowered into the water.

Tick offered up a translation; "They're insisting you don't put anything inside the lake."

The crew that was lowering a small, round metallic object via miniature, makeshift crane stopped upon hearing this, and looked at Kerns for orders. He nodded toward them to continue.

"Cole and Simms are here in case anything goes awry." He motioned his hand in the direction of the two men carrying extremely high powered rifles.

Glen shook his head at Tick. "Let's go back up to the top. This can't turn out well." The two gathered up the recording equipment they brought along, told Kerns they were going to get some top-down footage and headed back up the trail.

Spotlights turned on, illuminating the entire lake area. The crane had dropped the device, which will give a 3-D readout of everything under the water.

Upon reaching the top of the cliffs, Tick asked a member of the crowd what was going to happen if they disturbed the lake.

"We feed Varan only when we know he is ready to eat. Any time besides that, the lake is off limits. He does not like to be woken up. People have died."

"He's killed people?" Glen asked, through Tick.

"Yes. Varan is smart. He knows when it's time to be fed, and that we are the ones who will bring him food. Any other time, though, he will destroy anything that is in his home." 

Shouting is suddenly heard again, this time from down below. The crew around the lake scatters away from the shore. The surface of the water is shattered as Varan emerges from beneath. He takes a single look at the humans all over his home, and lets out an enormous, angry roar. The miniature crane is destroyed with a single swipe of his clawed hand, and he then makes his way out of the water.

The beast stands about 130 feet tall, much smaller in comparison to the previous giant monster, Godzilla, but still larger than anything else humanity is used to. Varan lets out another guttural roar before swiping three crew members that were trying to escape by running up the spiraled path out of the lake. If they weren't killed by the monster, the fall definitely did them in. In response to this, a thunderous crack echoes from the lake's shore. Varan shrieked in pain as a tremendously powerful bullet pierced his skin. Another bang and another cry from the monster are heard.

Simms quickly reloaded his weapon, keeping his eye on the monster… who was staring him down. The massive, green, reptilian eyes were fixated on Simms and Simms alone. His heart skipped a beat. He fumbled and dropped the gun, just as Varan reared his head back, ready to attack. A third, deafening crack echoed throughout the landscape. Cole hit the monster in the arm, and took a second shot at his shoulder. Varan turned in his direction and snarled, but ultimately did not fall for the distraction. He turned back to Simms and smashed his hand down; snuffing out the rifleman like a man might do to a hornet that just stung him. He turned back to take care of the second nuisance, but it seemed to have disappeared.

Everybody at the top of the cliffs piled into their jeeps and fled the scene. Glen, camera still rolling, was a mess of thoughts. He's never seen anybody die, not to mention a giant monster go on a small rampage before.

"What about the others?" Tick asked Kerns.

"Nothing we can do for them, they're going to have to fend for themselves. I know it sounds cold, but…" Kerns' response was cut short by what he saw in the rear view mirror; Varan had crawled out of his den and was making short work of the remaining crew members and villagers trying to escape the mayhem.

Satisfied that he defended his territory, Varan's attentions turned to the fleeting lights racing through the jungle. With a grunt, he leaned down on all fours and gave chase to his new prey.

He caught up to the first jeep in no time at all, and swatted it with enough force to send it flying into the nearest tree. The explosion startled him, but he kept on toward the next. They drove erratically in and out of the trees in hopes to lose him, but he again caught up with little effort and took it out. He let out a gleeful shriek that filled the night air. The animal hadn't done this much in a very long time, and he felt awakened.

Kerns shut the lights off of the jeep and parked it deep under a thick canopy. He killed the engine. The four men exchanged glances, but didn't say a word. Impact tremors came every so often, as did the sound of trees being torn down. After ten minutes of searching, Varan gave up and turned back in the direction of his home.

He didn't approach it, however. Varan took in the jungle around him, and the warm, night. He let out a few croaky growls, as if talking to himself. He wasn't ready to go back home and go to sleep. Excitement was a good feeling. He wanted more. Varan wandered away from his lake, and wandered north through the jungles of Peru, unsure of, but ready for whatever he would come across next.


	3. Against The Peruvian Monster

The persistently irritating ring of the satellite phone pulled Glen out of a restful sleep. He peered at the time before answering; 3:47 a.m.

"… Yeah, Hal?"

"I know it's late over there, so I'll give you a moment to wake up and I'll talk slowly. There is a plane leaving Chiclayo Airport in an hour. You and your companion need to get on it. You will be flown to La Vanguardia Airport in Villavicencio, Colombia. You'll be picked up from there and driven to the Gomez Nino Air Base a few miles southeast of the city."

"... I'm sorry, air base? What's happening?"

"For the past week, I've been been sent reports of something tearing through villages and towns, eating anything it comes across. The trajectory of the attacks seems aimed straight at Villavicencio. Something big. If it stays on course, and at the same rate it's been attacking, it will be there tomorrow evening. I would've sent you earlier but I had to pay out the ass to let them finally agree to let you film their operations.

Glen's tired brain raced to digest the information he was receiving. Varan disappeared into the jungle over five weeks ago and there've been no sightings of him since the night of the incident.

"So, Varan's resurfaced.."

"Not unless Varan can fly." Hal replied. "The reports are scattered, but they all claim that the monster was able to fly."

Glen sighed. It didn't really matter what it was, he was actively heading toward whatever was killing people.

"Will Kerns or Cole be on hand this time?"

"Sorry. It's just going to be you guys."

* * *

><p><strong>Villavicencio, Colombia<strong>

"We're in a truck." Tick stated, completely deadpan.

"Glad you're as alert as ever." Glen groaned, a little grumpy from the lack of sleep these past 24 hours.

"We're in a truck… headed to an air base that is believed to be in the path of a giant monster."

"People die doing their jobs every day, Tick. Construction workers, cops, I don't know… those people that work on the power lines? They die all the time, doing their job. I'm not saying I want to die, or that I'm not scared. Just, hell, man… This documentary is going to be the most important thing on film one day, and _we're _making it. You and me. Mostly me, you just carry my bags and translate."

"You better put my name as a producer or I quit right now."

Glen sleepily nodded, not really sure or caring if he was joking.

The truck passes through a small checkpoint, and they reach the air base. They are ushered from the truck into the air traffic control tower, where they record the process of planning an attack against an unknown adversary.

Three operating squadrons made of jets and helicopters cover a large amount of Columbia, though it's mostly anti-drug warfare they're used to as opposed to whatever was on its way.

Hours pass, mostly spent playing dominos, waiting for something – anything – to happen.

A man resting at the console suddenly perks up, adjusting his headset. He has a small, frantic conversation with the person on the other end and then starts flipping switches. A siren blares from outside.

Tick converses with the operator and explains, "Whatever _it _is, it's going to pass us a mile ahead. It's been spotted thirty miles out."

Jets take off one after another, as a couple helicopters struggle to keep up behind them. Glen anxiously peers out the window as the jets fly off into the distance.

An unbearable few minutes go by before the radio controller acts up again. He frantically starts repeating phrases that Glen cannot understand into the headset.

"I don't think this is good. This doesn't sound good."

"What's he saying?"

Tick listened in for another moment, before the controller took his headset off and rushed downstairs.

"They didn't make it."

"They're DEAD? They JUST left!"

Tick shrugged. "He was losing communications with them one by one. Either they're dead or ejected out of the planes."

"That squadron covered this ENTIRE area! We're helpless here!"

Whatever Glen said about the documentary earlier definitely wasn't there right now. A sense of dread washed over him. He grabbed his camera and slowly walked downstairs to the air strip below. The controller was out here, yelling at some other military personnel, who in turn were yelling into giant walkie-talkies.

He stared in the direction that it was approaching from, his camera filming every moment.

Nothing.

Then, a shriek. An ear-shatteringly loud shriek.

A tiny shape came into view over the horizon. It slowly grew in size as it got closer. It was definitely flying.

It was rapidly approaching, and eventually it was close enough to take in its appearance.

Brownish-red in color, it had two enormous wings that had to span nearly 140 feet. Giant, jutting ears atop its head, a long tail that made up half of its total length. It appeared to be some sort of giant bat creature.

It zoomed past the base by a few miles, and just as predicted, headed straight for Villavicencio.

Tick grabbed Glen's arm and pulled him in the direction of a jeep. "Come on, we're not missing this!"

He absent-mindedly followed Tick, stunned by the sheer strangeness of the animal that he just witnessed.

The jeep tore down the road as they followed the giant beast, which quickly reached its target city. It let out a horrendous shriek frequently as it flew around the city.

The duo finally arrived outside Villavicencio, in sight of the animal but at a presumably safe distance. Glen made his way to the top of a nearby water tower and documented the carnage. The monster landed on the ground, and repeatedly lowered its head down while supporting itself on its huge, bat-like wings.

It was eating people straight off of the streets.

Gunfire broke out, but the creature seemed unfazed.

"Battra!" Tick shouted from down below.

Glen looked down at him inquisitively.

"A name for the monster, if it doesn't already have one! What do you think?"

Glen shook his head. He watched, helplessly, as the demon-bat ravaged the unsuspecting city.

"Bagorah." He wasn't sure what it meant, or if he heard it from someplace else, but it sounded great to him.

"Bagorah!" Glen shouted the suggestion back down to his comrade, who was listening in on the radio chatter from the military jeep.

"Alright, fine. Hey, Glen! I don't want to alarm you, but… I just listened in on the chatter here."

"Yeah, and?"

"Something else is coming this way from the south."


	4. Varan's Crusade

A loud shriek pierced the hot Peruvian air. It echoed for miles, carrying much further than anything in the jungle had ever heard.

Varan's eye snapped wide open at this. He was enjoying a nap high atop an otherwise unoccupied hill. The past month for him was something of a vacation. New scents, new sights, new food… new sounds. This new sound caught his attention. He arose from his curled up state and stared off in the direction of the shriek. He could see for miles, but there was no indication of what caused it.

He waited, silently.

There it was, again. It sounded violent. Aggressive. Varan scurried down the hill, crashing through the trees. This kind of thing was why he left his home. He barrelled his way into the jungle, running at full speed.

The blood in his veins was pumping as fast as the night his domain was invaded. The cries continued, only driving Varan even further.

A few villages and towns witnessed as the gigantic, lavender lizard sped by, or sometimes through.

Varan stopped when he finally reached visual range of his newfound interest, and caught his breath as he observed.

The creature, ever-so-recently dubbed "Bagorah", looked familiar to Varan. He'd seen thousands of creatures, much smaller of course, coming in and out of the tiny caverns that peppered the cliffs of his lake home. Nobody had seen an animal quite like Bagorah. It was an ancient creature, living in hibernation in a deep, unreachable crevice somewhere in Brazil. Whether it woke up because it was merely time, or for some other reason has yet to be seen. It was awake now, either way, and it felt the hundreds of years of fasting and needed to fill its belly.

Villavicencio is a decent sized city in the middle of paradise. It had a handful of scattered taller buildings, but most were small and offered a beautiful view of the surrounding lush, green nature. Varan watched as this strange monster flew about the town, ripping through houses and shops like an anteater pawing at a termite mound.

Perhaps it was territorial aggressiveness, or something else, but this made Varan angry.

He let out a powerful, animalistic roar that caused Bagorah to spin around in startlement. It let out a distressed, high pitched shriek and advanced in Varan's direction. The sight of Bagorah walking on his hind legs and using his clawed batwings as makeshift feet was creepy enough in its own right.

Varan charged forward. The two beasts collided with a tackle led by Varan, sending them both sprawling across the ground. Single story shops and homes crumbled beneath, bruising the skin of both monsters. Bagorah scrambled to get itself right-side-up, but Varan gets up first. He snarls and tries to bite into Bagorah's leg, but it pulls out of the way. Lifting itself off of the ground using its winged hands, Bagorah swings itself backwards, then forwards, crashing into Varan with both of its feet. Varan stumbled backwards, but maintains balance.

Bagorah opens its mouth and a shrill, _far _louder sound comes from within. It lasts five agonizing seconds, as glass all around cracks and shatters. This sonic attack leaves Varan dazed, his tympanums in severe pain. Bagorah uses this opportunity to leap into the air and fly in a full circle, swooping down on Varan with its clawed feet ready to grab his enemy.

It clamps down on Varan, failing to make note of the spikes that ran down his spine. A pained cry escapes from Bagorah as it flies off across town to nurse its wound. Varan uses this moment to recollect, and then again charges headstrong after his foe.

Bagorah flies higher, too far for Varan to reach. It aims its grizzly-toothed snout in Varan's direction and lets out another mind-jumbling sonic screech. Varan is once again shaking his head in pain, and Bagorah flies high up and then divebombs straight into the lizard giant. Varan is sent flying, once against skidding across countless tiny structures. The impact of each breaking against his scales feels like being forcefully jabbed with a tiny, pointed rock.

Bagorah keeps himself from crashing to the ground from the impact, and hovers over Varan's writhing body. It carefully places its clawed toes in between Varan's back spikes and grasps his body, then lifts off into the air. Varan proves to be heavy prey, and can't be lifted too high into the air. Bagorah's wings flap strainedly.

It was going to lift him high into the air and drop him, but it could hardly keep him even a hundred feet off the ground. Bagorah let out a chirp that bounced back an image of the city he could decipher much easier than with his poor eyesight. The echolocation proved useful, and Bagorah flew with all its might toward one of the taller buildings in Villavicencio. It whipped back its legs and then flung them forward, releasing the grip. Varan is flung straight into the building, which collapses on top of him.

Bagorah screeches victoriously.

It flies around the city, crying out repeatedly with triumph, before settling back down to consume more of its plentiful food source.

The terror lasts for fifteen minutes. Every so often, guns can be heard but they are quickly snuffed out. Then, its large ears catch a sound across the city. Rumbling. It flies over to investigate, and finds Varan slowly crawling from the rubble.

Bagorah screams with rage. It was positive this nuisance had been disposed of. Varan stumbled to his feet and attempted to grasp the bat's feet with his hands, but it was out of reach. Bagorah tried to dive bomb Varan again, but he knew better this time. At the last second, Varan dove out of the way, sending Bagorah crashing to the ground. Varan sprinted on all fours to his fallen combatant, leapt on to its back and tried to bite into its hide, but Bagorah took off, lifting itself and Varan into the air from a prone state before shaking him off.

Varan let out a frustrated growl, and then repeatedly leapt in the air, trying to get a grasp on Bagorah, who stayed out of reach. He surveyed his surroundings, and then made way for the tallest building in the city. Varan carefully scaled it, doing minimal damage as he climbed. He perched at the top and eyed Bagorah. It was a ways away, but it remained out of reach. It made a point to remain too high for Varan to reach until it came up with a new strategy.

Varan readied himself at the edge of his perch, and leapt off with all of his might. The building toppled as he flung forward into the air. He extended both legs and arms to expose the membrane between them, and took flight across the city toward Bagorah. It all happened too fast for Bagorah to react appropriately, and was taken down by a midair collision. Both Bagorah and Varan crashed hundreds of feet onto the city below.

Bagorah suffered an injured leg upon impact, and cried out in pain. Varan had braced himself for the fall this time, and while it still hurt, he was ready for it. He scrambled to his feet first. He snapped his jaws at Bagorah, but was met with a slash from the clawed fingers on its winged hand. Bagorah connected with a bite of his own, and it hurt. Hundreds of tiny, dagger like teeth sunk into Varan's arm, causing him to roar in agony.

Not letting go of its grip, Bagorah tried yet again to lift Varan into the air by the arm. It started to flap its wings furiously, but Varan had enough. He slashed Bagorah's left wing with his good arm, and pulled straight down, tearing five slits through the monsters thin skin. It fell down to the ground, completely unable to fly and with its injured leg, couldn't run away fast enough.

This was Varan's moment.

He grasped Bagorah's head in his hands and held it steady. Varan opened his jaws as wide as possible, revealing two retractable fangs that had previously been folded away. The fangs were driven straight into Bagorah's neck. It cried and struggled but Varan's death grip was too strong. Slowly, the color from his back spikes began to drain. He didn't let go until they were completely empty. He dropped Bagorah and took a few steps back. It writhed on the ground, and even tried to get up and move until it collapsed once more.

Varan stared Bagorah's body down for a moment, until it was apparent it wasn't getting back up. The venom had done its job. Bagorah was dead. He let out a triumphant roar, and then grabbed his new meal in his jaws and began to drag it out of the city, before disappearing into the adjacent river.


	5. A Bad Time in San Pedro

**Portland, Oregon**

Footage of Varan's victory over the bat-monster Bagorah streamed on Hal Watson's far too expensive computer monitor.

"This…" he started, shaking his index finger at the screen, "This is incredible. Nobody has tape this clear of the event. Glen, we're going to make a fortune with this stuff."

Glen and Tick found a hill near the city, and it offered a perfectly framed view of the humanities first witnessed monster battle.

"Godzilla and ... What do you call the bat, again?"

"Bagorah." Glen muttered, feeling stupid about it by now.

"Bagorah, right. Those two, popped up out of nowhere and wiped out anybody they saw. This one, though.." Hal clicked the mouse and froze the video, pointing to a mid-flight Varan. "The only time he attacked anybody was in self-defense?"

Glen nodded. "Right, during the search for him after he disappeared into the river, we heard he was seen passing through some villages, but was completely indifferent to them. Despite what's on film, I don't think he's a violent animal… at least not when it comes to humans."

"I think this one should be the star. The hero of the story. Nobody's seen Godzilla for almost a year now." Hal's voice hinted disappointment in this fact.

"A few freighters go missing in the pacific every so often, but that's about all we have on him. ...if it's even him."

"I'm thinking we get a GPS tracker on Varan, and you become his personal videographer."

A sigh escaped Glen. "Look. I don't think he's doing anything all that interesting every waking moment. Before we..." He stopped himself. "...before _your _people rustled him up, he spent all of his time underwater, asleep. I think it was incredibly lucky that he crossed paths with Bagorah and stopped him when he did."

"Documentary makers set out camp for months at a time to get even one perfect shot of a moth hatching from a cocoon. Your time is already too precious to track a monster for this movie? Give me a damn break!"

"Hal, … Mr. Watson, please. I'm not saying that at all. I just feel like with the resources at your disposal, it's wasted potential to sit on Varan, wherever he _is, _waiting for him to come out of the water, jungle, wherever, and do something interesting. More of these things are coming. Kerns said it himself. We now have _three _oversized beasts that have been reported in a year."

He took a quick breath. Glen seemed to actually be selling this to Hal.

"Something's going to pop up soon. Let's just jump on whatever that is. First you wanted to make this about Godzilla, and now about Varan. Let's just make it about this entire event. I know you want the best footage possible of these things, and you know you won't get that from anybody but me."

Hal nodded slowly. "You're right. You're absolutely right. We'll give it a little bit. I have feelers all over the entire globe. If anything strange enough happens, I hear about it. We'll give this a little while. If nothing turns up, we'll fall back on the Varan angle. I have a title in mind, just in case; 'Varan, The Unbelievable!'

Glen blinked hard to stop the eye roll. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Get some rest while you can, kid. I'll be in touch when something big comes up."

* * *

><p><strong>San Pedro, Ivory Coast<strong>

**May 6, 2006**

For weeks, beaches around the entire Ivory Coast faced troubles. First, random freighters would disappear, then smaller boats and swimmers. The cause of these attacks was a complete mystery, until this night.

An invader from the ocean made landfall during dusk, and started a violent assault on anything and everything in its path to the main city. While most citizens chose their own home as refuge, a large handful hoped St. Paul would protect them under the roof of his church.

Esther and Joel squeezed one another's hands while huddled up against a pew in the center of the church. The giant monster had made it into the city an hour previous. Neither of them had caught a glimpse of it, but its repeated, gurgling chirps were indication enough of its presence. The chirps had stopped for a short while, however. They'd been waiting it out, and it seemed to have stopped.

"Do you think it's gone?" Esther asked, hopefully.

"Why don't we hear _anything?_ Sirens, people shouting that its okay, something…" Joel wasn't optimistic about the situation.

"I can't handle this. I'm going to look outside!" A fellow refugee proclaimed. He got up and slowly opened the church door. He peered through the crack, and then opened the door a bit wider. Eventually, he left the church entirely before stating that he didn't see anything.

Everyone waited, but he never came back. A pair of helicopters was heard overheard. Esther tugged on Joel's hand. "Let's go see…?"

"Okay."

The two walked to the door and gave a cautious look outside. There was indeed nothing in sight, set aside a few signs of destruction to some buildings in the distance, but nothing severe. The helicopters circled the city, spotlights waving every which way, and eventually made their way down the path the monster arrived from.

"Let's get home, get the car and get the hell away from here." Joel adamantly suggested. Esther squeezed his hand as a silent agreement, and they headed in the direction of their home.

They only made it a few blocks before Joel froze.

"Christ." He muttered under his breath.

"What?"

He slowly raised an arm, pointing at the building on the other side of the street. Something was off.

"I don't see it."

He put his head next to hers and pointed again. "Right there, look at the corner of the building. It isn't a straight line. It's segmented…"

Joel noticed the eye, but before he could say anything, Gezora flung a tendrilous clubbed tentacle from his camouflaged state. It knocked him back about twenty feet. Esther cried out as the monstrous mollusk snagged Joel with its suckers and pulled him in. The last thing Joel saw was the snapping beak that he was being pulled into.


	6. 100 Ways To Make A Monster

**San Francisco, California**

San Francisco is a ghost town. In July of 2005, a creature of unknown origin - dubbed Godzilla - came ashore from the Pacific Ocean and began a relentless, unprovoked attack.

Despite disappearing back into the ocean after satisfying its own lust for destruction, its radioactive shadow hung heavy over the city. The fallout from its atomic ray turned the once bustling city into an uninhabitable graveyard.

A small research team set up a work camp on the outskirts of the area. Over the course of the few months, they collected samples of the monsters flesh found scattered across the city; small chunks that fell off here and there when the military unsuccessfully tried to kill it. After acquiring these, rigorous testing was set in place with

varying strains of bacteria that would eat away at the radiation contaminating the bay.

Failure after failure plagued the research. The radiation proved too strong for the bacteria, or it wouldn't adhere at all. It wasn't until a strange green, moss-like fungus was discovered growing around particularly heavily irradiated areas of the bay that a solution was in sight. Trial and error bred , a resilient force born from the combination of cells from Godzilla, the fungus and the bacteria that proved most successful out of the lot. Final bits of tweaking were needed to be done on the bacterium; specifically ensuring that it would die off after it ran out of radiation to eat. It was far too tenacious, however, and refused to waste away… at least in the short time they'd given it.

**October 20, 2005**

It was a particularly rainy evening when two unmarked, militant jeeps and an armored truck pulled up to the research camp. Men dressed in heavy, dark paramilitary gear, gas masks and carrying assault rifles stormed out of the jeeps. A single scientist exited the main tent to see what was happening.

"Don't move!" Six rifles were pointed directly at him. His hands sprung up immediately.

One of the assailants pointed at the scientist, then at the tent, ushering him inside. All of the others rushed inside behind him.

"Nobody! Move!" the leader of the squad shouted. He turned to the nearest person to him. "You! Hand over all research on the cells." The scientist shakily nodded and began to gather printouts from a file cabinet.

"I need _all _samples of the cells that are being stored here. Bring them to me and the four of you will walk out of here."

"… but there's five of u-" gunfire cut the sentence short as he mercilessly blasted the man away.

The others panicked and huddled together. "One of you, right now, bring them all to me."

He followed the volunteer outside to a tent set up a short ways away from the main one.

"Who are you people? ... What do you want all of this for?"

"Do not address me. Do as I ask and nothing more."

The researcher obliged. He opened a cold storage unit and pulled a metal container. He opened it and showed off its contents; a hundred or so tiny vials.

"This is all of it?"

The researcher nodded. The man responded by pulling the trigger and cutting the researchers life short. He sprayed gunfire all across the tent for good measure; ruining thousands of dollars' worth of equipment. The refrigerator holding the bacteria got punctured with bullets. Petri dishes shattered and biohazardous material was flung about. _C. hedorum _seeped out of its contained prison, slowly oozing onto the floor.

The man returned to the main tent, made a two fingered "go ahead" gesture to his other men, who swiftly executed the remaining scientists. The Godzilla cells and related research were stored in the armored truck, and the men all loaded back up into the jeeps, speeding away from the crime scene.

* * *

><p><strong>Red Bamboo Research Facility – Isla Clarion, South Pacific - 430 miles west of Mexico<strong>

**May, 2006**

The terrorist organization known as the Red Bamboo were underneath the radar of most countries, mostly because they were secretive in their exploits. The world did not know nor fear the name, but that was all going to change if Captain Hirata had anything to do with it. He had a vision of dominance in his head, but it was unclear.

It all became clear the moment he saw the reports of Godzilla nearly a year prior.

Captain Hirata started brainstorming "Project Atlas", and the first step was purchasing Isla Clarion from the Mexican government for a very generous sum. Next, he had a vast facility built underground, and disguised as If the island were still uninhabited.

The next phase was known as "aggressive acquisition", the stealing of materials needed. The first was a very faulty, very under-realized brain-wave manipulation technology being developed by Russians. Hirata got this at a very high price, almost as much as he paid for the nearly 8-mile island.

The last bit was getting his hands on cells from Godzilla, which he sent a team personally handpicked by him to accomplish, which they did with flying colors. After months of back and forth orders, progress reports and a slew of disappointing results, Project Atlas saw its first success. Captain Hirata traveled all the way from his home in Japan to see it with his own eyes.

The captain stood with perfect posture as the elevator descended deep under the Earth's surface. His tour guide for the day was a lead scientist who had been on the project since day one. His name was Dr. Mafune.

The elevator doors opened, and the two men walked down a very long corridor.

"Tell me, Doctor, to appease my curiosity, what animals are on the failure list?"

"Hm… let's see… various types of birds, a tarantula, a salamander, numerous fish, snakes, a monitor lizard and a turtle. Some developed from embryos, but died before hatching. Most of them just did not take. We lost a lot of material, Captain Hirata."

Mafune led the captain through a set of doors, leading to one spacious control room with a metal shutter closing a giant, rectangular window.

"However, it was all worth it because we learned from the _very few _mistakes we have made."

Captain Hirata nodded confidently. "I'll be the judge of that. Show me what you have."

Dr. Mafune pressed a few buttons on the control console, and then approached a panel near the window. It had one big green button, one big red button. His finger hovered over the green button.

"We are still working out the kinks for Marionette, but we have a functioning setup installed in the animal. It will obey directional travel, aggressive and passive mood synapse responses, and retreat and attack commands. Captain Hirata, this is the product of your hard earned money and all the work you've put in to this organization."

He pressed the green button, the shutters slowly opening, the atmosphere as dramatic as Dr. Mafune was secretly hoping for. As they opened, a shockingly huge space came into view. It spanned for miles, had tons and tons of dirt and rocks scattered about. The ceiling was lined with hundreds of bright lights, creating artificial daylight.

In the center of this man-made cavern was a humongous, horrible creature. It was around 150 feet in length. The entirety of the creature was covered in jagged, chitinous armor of a black-blue hue. Two massive, red, bulbous compound eyes rested under a nefarious looking brow. Three insectoid legs held the creature up, as well as two very large lobster-like claws. The wings protruding from its back doubled the length of the creature from its sinister, toothed maw to its long stinger-tipped tail.

"Your vision stands before you, Captain. The first successful product of Project Atlas; I give you Megaguirus."


End file.
